But instead, Mara, Mara, Mara, seven sets of claws skittered happily on the stone floor. Then, in a moment that would echo through Verkhy clan lore for centuries, Mara flicked one slice toward the nearest cub. Mara Reyes, the human who fought lightning storms, who survived toxic atmospheres, who once bit a raider who tried to bite her first, now gained a new layer of myth. Aliens whispered that if humanity ever chose to conquer the galaxy, it would not be through strength dot it would be through cunning, through discipline, through the terrifying human ability to impose order on chaos, without needing violence at all. That night, Mara finished the last apple, wiped her knife, and let the cub's curl around her like oversized, purring wolves.
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